charming, in its own way
by hiyoris-scarf
Summary: Riza Hawkeye enjoys herself at the Rockbell-Elric wedding.


**this is a birthday gift for my beautiful friend Gio ( themusicalbookworm on tumblr)**

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"Amazing, isn't it?" Roy Mustang muttered, rather louder than was necessary. "Fullmetal made it through without imploding."

In front of their gathered friends, neighbors, what seemed to be half the Amestrian military and more than a few rowdy chimeras, Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

"Sir," Riza said, sighing gently. "Please don't ruin this for him."

The ceremony was short, and quickly followed by the sound of multiple champagne bottles being popped open, and the tuning of an unorthodox quartet. Breda carefully assembled a gleaming flute, while Fuery hauled a tuba out of a case twice his size. Sig Curtis tightened the strings of an upright bass, and Garfiel, still sniffling wetly from the emotional turbulence of the ceremony, tested the keys of his accordion. As they began to play, Ed and Winry swept onto the swath of shorn grass that served as a dance floor, and were met with riotous applause

"Don't trip, Fullmetal!" Roy crowed. Riza put her heel heavily on his instep, and he yelped.

Ed did not trip. In fact, it quickly became obvious that he was unable to hear or see anything else. His eyes never strayed from Winry's soft, rosy smile.

"Some bubbly, Riz?" Rebecca Catalina asked, appeared at Riza's side holding two champagne flutes.

"Please," Riza said gratefully, taking the glass her friend held out to her.

"What, none for me?" Roy asked in a hurt tone.

"Nope!" Rebecca laughed buoyantly, sashaying into the crowd and appearing on the dance floor moments later with Zampano, who looked like he wasn't quite sure how he had ended up there.

Riza looked at the dancers, her eyes smiling as she found Alphonse and Winry, who laughed as they waltzed, while Ed twirled Pinako around the dance floor like she weighed no more than a broomstick.

Roy turned to her and chivalrously offered his arm.

"Care to dance, Hawkeye?"

A sword materialized between them, smacking Roy's hand with the flat and sending him stumbling backward.

"H- _hey!_ Olivier—!"

"That's General Armstrong to you, buffoon."

The general sheathed her sword, and greeted Riza with a terse nod. "It's always a pleasure to see you, captain."

Riza gathered herself quickly enough to return the nod. "Likewise, general."

Roy slunk around behind Riza, shielding half his body as Olivier Armstrong measured him up and down with eyes as cold as ice chips.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, forsaking any semblance of gallantry.

Armstrong looked at him down her nose.

"I consider the Elric brothers to be the sons I never had," she said, inscrutably. Riza couldn't tell if she was serious.

"Oh," said Roy, at a loss for words.

"Shouldn't you stop sniveling behind your subordinate and ask me to dance?" Armstrong asked. Riza could only give him a sympathetic half-smile as Roy offered the general his hand and escorted her to the dance floor—looking rather more like he was being led to the firing squad.

Riza finished her champagne, and snagged another glass from the trays traveling among the guests. She skirted the dance floor, avoiding interested eyes as she searched for an empty seat at one of the round, white-draped tables.

"Over here!" someone called to her, and Riza turned to see Alphonse waving at her from a nearby table. She smiled warmly at him as she took the seat he offered.

"This is such a beautiful wedding," she said with sincerity. White and gold paper lanterns bloomed from wires strung between the trees, bathing the grassy reception in a fairyland glow. After the first few dances, the quartet had disbanded. They were replaced by a gramophone that wafted a soft, yearning melody over the crowd.

"Thank you," Al said. The tips of his ears turned pink. "I did most of it. They needed someone tall."

"Well, you have a wonderful eye for decoration."

The pink spread from Al's ears to his cheeks. "Actually, all of that was Winry. And Granny. And May. And Paninya." He sighed. "Actually…everyone else except me."

Riza chuckled generously.

"Still, they needed someone tall, didn't they?"

She held up her glass. Al, after hesitating for a moment, grinned and clinked his against it.

"Yes, they did."

The evening got cooler, and above the music of the gramophone, crickets began to sing. As the champagne flowed, along with other, stronger spirits, the party grew louder. Riza was on her third flute, and beginning to feel quite floaty in the head.

Roy stumbled off the dance floor and collapsed in the chair next to her, which had been left abandoned by Al once May pulled him aside for some "advice about the snack table," and had never returned.

"It's a war zone out there," he wheezed, and slumped against her shoulder. "Comfort me, captain."

Riza patted him professionally on the back. "There, there, sir."

"I had to dance _twice_ with Olivier—she led, by the way—and then I ended up having to congratulate Fullmetal for fifteen minutes, and of course to be polite I danced with his wife (lovely young lady, far too pretty for him)—and, Hawkeye, he glared at me the entire time, you'd think I had some sort of _reputation_ —and then Breda spilled sauce down his shirt so I helped him clean it up, and then I looked for you, but ended up talking to Fullmetal again—did you know he's been compiling some ancient Aerugan and Cretan alchemical records? Turns out their name for human transmutation was something like: ' _really_ bad idea,' or maybe, 'if you enjoy having limbs, don't do this'—the old translation was kind of tough to parse…"

Riza tuned him out as he waxed on about alchemy for a bit longer. The champagne was making her chest feel very light.

"…And _then_ I finally found you again, all the way here in the back by yourself," he finished at last. He removed his weight from her shoulder, and Riza found herself missing it.

"I wasn't alone the whole time," she said honestly.

"Have you danced with anyone yet?" Roy asked.

"No," she said.

"Good."

His eyes found hers.

"I wanted to be your first dance tonight," he said in a completely different tone: low and secretive.

Riza hoped it was merely the alcohol in her blood making it sing. Before she could respond, Rebecca collapsed without preamble into the chair on her other side, kicking her shoes onto the grass and rolling her ankles rapturously.

"What are the chances I could get either of you to massage my feet?" she groaned.

"Bad," said Riza.

"I'll do it," offered Roy.

"No you won't," said Havoc, appearing on Rebecca's other side. He handed her a glass of water, then sat down to pull her feet into his lap.

"You are the perfect man," she sighed.

Riza stood up, stretching her spine.

"I'll leave you two to…whatever this is." She waved at Havoc and Rebecca. "I think it's time I said hello to Edward and Winry."

"I'll come with you," Roy said, standing quickly. They made it approximately fifteen steps before Gracia Hughes caught sight of them, tugging a drowsy Elicia in her wake as she came to say hello. Riza, after hugging both of them, excused herself.

Roy raised his eyebrows at her. _Running off again?_

She shook her head slightly, tilting her chin toward a flash of white in the crowd. _Later._

He smiled in understanding, and carried on his conversation with Gracia while Riza worked her way over to Ed and Winry.

"Hawkeye!" said the groom joyfully as she approached. Then, catching himself, "I mean, uh. Captain!"

"Hawkeye is fine, Ed," she said, laughing a bit as she hugged him. "You might even consider calling me Riza these days."

Ed shivered at the thought.

"Nope. I'll stick with Hawkeye. You still scare me."

"Ed—!" rebuked Winry half-heartedly, and Riza turned to her. She could only assume the girl hadn't been getting much sleep the past several days, but you would never know it from her appearance. When Winry's face broke into a huge smile, Riza suddenly understood why Ed had been unable to look anywhere else.

"I'm so happy you could come, Miss Riza," she said, her eyes shining.

Riza gave the bride a long, tight hug, and for the first time since the wedding had started, tears stung the back of her throat and the corners of her eyes. After letting go of Winry, she looked between the two of them, at their young faces lit from within with impossible delight.

"You both have my deepest congratulations," she said with utmost sincerity. "I don't think either of you could have chosen better."

Ed blushed, and stammered out a thanks. Winry gazed at him fondly, and his stammering got worse.

"Articulate as always, Fullmetal," said a deep voice from behind her, as Roy came up to her side.

"Shut up," Ed muttered.

"Good evening, captain," Roy said. His voice was close to her ear, making her heart slam against her ribcage _._

"Good evening, sir," she said calmly.

"Is your next dance spoken for?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"Actually—" Ed began to extend his hand, but his new wife elbowed him hard, and he swallowed the words. A secret, scheming smile was playing around the corners of Winry Rockbell-Elric's mouth, and Ed knew better than to get in the way when she wore that look.

"It is not," said Riza, truthfully.

"Then, shall we?"

They walked together to the dance floor, which was far more empty at this point in the night. Only four or five other couples still swayed to the music of the gramophone. Roy put one arm around her waist, tugging her close as his other hand took hold of hers.

Their dance was silent for a few minutes: a wordless communication of step and rhythm. Riza could feel that her cheeks were flushed from the champagne.

"It's been a little while since we danced," Roy said. The hand on her waist tightened as they did a half-spin.

"A few years," she confirmed. Her hand crept slowly, slowly, from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

"We should make an effort to do it more often," he said. "I think you might be rusty."

"That's entirely possible, sir."

They circled and dipped, mirroring each other seamlessly. A few of the other dancers stepped off the dance floor, and the lights seemed to dim. The music from the gramophone changed, loosened from a waltz into something freer, sweeter.

Roy dropped her hand, and for a moment she thought the dance was ending. But rather than letting her go, he put both hands on her hips, sliding them up to her waist as he pulled her closer. Riza's nose touched his shoulder, brushing the rough fabric of his dress uniform. After taking a moment to steady her breath, she wound both arms around his neck.

"You know," he said. His breath was warm on her ear, and goosebumps prickled along her neck. "This whole 'wedding' thing is charming, in its own way."

Riza shut her eyes. "I agree. Very charming."

They swayed.

"I'd like to try it myself, if the time is ever right," he said. His voice cracked, ruining the nonchalance of his words. "What do you think, Hawkeye? Is it a good idea?"

"A lot of people seem to think so," she said, trying to ignore how she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

Roy chuckled. His arms around her were very, very warm.

"Someday, perhaps," he murmured into her hair.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder. The music was soft, dying.

"Yes," she whispered. "Maybe someday."


End file.
